


built for

by robotsdontcry



Series: family (lost and found) [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Character Study, Family, Gen, Gender Issues, Growing Up, Humor, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24940933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsdontcry/pseuds/robotsdontcry
Summary: It’s not fair, Yuffie thinks. So what if she prefers wearing shorts, hides her chest with oversized shirts, cuts her hair short? She can climb trees and throw shurikens at targets and hit the center every time. Her dad even said it himself, that he’s always wanted a son. She can do everything a son can do, and more.
Relationships: Godo Kisaragi & Yuffie Kisaragi, Yuffie Kisaragi & OC
Series: family (lost and found) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796014
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	built for

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty headcanon-heavy, and presents a somewhat different spin on the theme of the series. it's also my first time writing an original character, so hope you enjoy!

“Your hair’s in my face!”

“Shh, be quiet! They’ll hear us.”

The tree is hardly strong enough to hold the both of them. Yuffie spits a strand of brown hair out of her mouth and is about to jostle Hana out of the way to get a closer look at the window, when she loses her balance and nearly plunges through a gap in the branches. She fumbles blindly in the darkness, showering them both with leaves.

“Yuffie…”

“Sorry!” Yuffie says. Hana gives her an unimpressed look that clearly says, _you’re not sorry,_ and Yuffie grins.

“I can’t believe I agreed to come,” Hana says with a sigh.

Yuffie raises an eyebrow at her friend. “I can’t believe you came, either.”

Between the leaves, golden light streams through the window and illuminates the room on the other side, just enough for Yuffie to glimpse a glowing green sphere sitting on a marble tabletop. This close, it feels like it’s taunting her. She licks her lips in eager anticipation.

“You’re sure about this?” Hana says. It’s more of a statement than a question, and Yuffie nods.

“C’mon, Hana! Think about it.” She holds up a confident finger in the air, ignoring the fact that they can barely see each other in the dark. “We steal the materia and bring it back to the village, and we’ll be heroes! Besides, this place’s already rich enough as it is.”

“Right, and no one will ever suspect a thing,” Hana deadpans, ever the voice of reason—more like negative energy, Yuffie thinks mutinously—in her life.

“Okay, maybe, but who cares where it comes from? Wutai needs materia, and everyone knows it.”

“Yeah, but not like this!”

“Dad won’t care,” Yuffie says stubbornly. “He’ll be so proud.”

She imagines the look on her father’s face when she hands him the materia, how his eyes will soften and the creases in his face will disappear. She knows how much he worries about the future of their nation even though he says he doesn’t. He’ll pat her on the shoulder and say, _good job, Yuffie,_ and then it’ll all have been worth it—even the day-long hike to the neighboring town where tourists flock like birds, and the eternity spent wedged in a tree with Hana’s hair in her face. 

Plus, she’s pretty sure a bug flew into her mouth a few minutes ago.

“But, Yuffie,” Hana says, “you really don’t have to do this, you know. Your dad already loves you.”

“He likes you better,” Yuffie says, automatic. Hana opens her mouth, but the protest dies down when the shorter girl turns to look at her with the most adamant look she can muster.

“It’s true!” she insists. “You’re nice and smart and, most important, you actually act like a girl. It’s impossible for people _not_ to like you.”

Hana frowns. She really is very pretty, Yuffie can’t help noticing, with wavy brown hair and fair skin and eyes that turn upward at the corners.

Hana Yamaguchi is a girl in every sense of the word: gentle and soft-spoken, popular with the boys, talented at flower-arranging and painting. She even _likes_ wearing dresses. Yuffie thinks back to the summer festival a month ago, when all the girls wore traditional gowns with flowing sleeves and intricate designs. Yuffie complained about the stuffy collar all night, but Hana didn’t say a word. She practically floated in that dress. 

It’s not fair, Yuffie thinks. So what if she prefers wearing shorts, hides her chest with oversized shirts, cuts her hair short? She can climb trees and throw shurikens at targets and hit the center every time. Her dad even said it himself, that he’s always wanted a son. She can do everything a son can do, and more.

But who she is now, somewhere in between girl and boy but not enough of either, isn’t worth anything to anyone. It’s a reality that has always aggravated her.

Hana’s saying her name, in a tone that clearly suggests she’s losing her patience. Yuffie snaps back to the present. “Huh?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

Yuffie sees the look on her face and knows better than to lie. “Uh, nope?” she offers.

Hana rolls her eyes, but even then Yuffie can see the ever-present glimmer of mirth dancing in her eyes, and feels herself grin like a fool in response. “I _said_ , if you really want the materia that bad, you should hurry up.”

“Right,” Yuffie says.

She rises to her feet and begins the careful business of inching toward the window, step by step, and feels Hana’s eyes bore into her back even as she promises to stand guard. Her stealthy footsteps take her closer, closer, until her fingertips brush glass—

_Snap!_

She didn’t know tumbling from a tree would hurt this bad, even with branches to break her fall. Yuffie lands on her butt and winces, the wind knocked out of her lungs. Hana screams as she falls—any chance of slipping away unnoticed goes out the window—but somehow manages to land on both feet, as graceful as ever. 

Both of their gazes snap toward the window. There’s a crack in the glass that wasn’t there before. Yuffie inwardly curses.

When she looks up at Hana, she can tell there’s an _I told you so_ ready on her lips. But Hana apparently decides it can wait, because the house is coming to life behind them. There’s a flurry of footsteps indoors, the creak of the front door opening.

“Let’s go,” Hana hisses. Ever alert and no-nonsense, she grabs the shorter girl’s arm and pulls her to her feet. It’s something Yuffie loves about her friend, that even though Hana enjoys things like dressing up and doing her hair, she knows how to think fast and move even faster.

As panicked voices pierce the air, the two of them sprint across a neatly trimmed lawn decorated with pristine flowerbeds, heading for the dirt road leading away from the large estate. It’s so dark, Yuffie nearly runs face-first into a hedge. She follows the sound of Hana’s footsteps until they reach the wrought iron gates, then stops and looks back.

“But what about the—”

“There’s no time!”

“Wait!” Yuffie says. “You have a spider in your hair.”

Hana’s eyes go wide, and her hands are on their way towards her hair—which is tangled and covered with leaves, Yuffie observes with a strange satisfaction—when she realizes what the shorter girl is up to. Huffing, she slugs Yuffie in the shoulder.

“I hate you.”

Yuffie grins. This whole situation really shouldn’t feel as good as it does. “Love you too.”

“I’ll get you back later,” Hana says, “but right now can we just get out of here and go home?”

“Yes, ma’am!”


End file.
